Fragments of Hope

“Mommy, where are we going?” he heard himself ask as he stared out at the trees passing by his window. It was a warm, sunny day, the light beaming into the car, keeping him warm. ‘I’m gonna miss recess with my friends. They wanted me to play kickball.”1

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” his mother replied. “It’s just a checkup with Dr. Johnson. You wanted to play soccer this summer, remember? You need to get your checkup before you can join the team. After you visit with Dr. Johnson, you can go back to school. I bet you’ll be back before recess even starts.”2

“You really think so, Mommy?” he asked, looking up at her soft brown eyes, hoping beyond all hope that she was right. “I don’t want to miss recess. We can only play kickball once a week, and it’s my turn to pick the teams!” He closed his eyes, sitting in the warm heat of the sun, relaxed. 3

They drove for a few more minutes before the car stopped. His mom looked down at him, a small smile on her face. “We’re here. Let’s go get you checked in and checked up so you can go back and play kickball.”4

The boy took the small, silver clasp of the door in his finger and popped it open. A cool breeze rushed into the car, the smell of spring floating gently on the air. Excitedly, he climbed out of the car, ready to get his checkup and get back to kickball.5

However, when he turned around, it wasn’t the doctor’s office he was in front of. He was, instead, standing by a soccer field.6

Confusion filled the young boy’s face. He looked back and forth, glancing at the kids on the sidelines with their teams, getting ready before the match. He spun around quickly to try and find his mom, but much to his surprise, the car was no longer there. Instead, there was a bright red truck. He started walking towards the head of the truck to find his mom when an unexpected sight came round before him. It was his dad.7

“Come on Michael,” his dad said. “We’re already running late for your first game. Don’t want them to start without you, now do you?”8

The boy shook his head, unsure of what was really going on. Moments ago, he was sitting in the car with his mom, talking about kickball and Dr. Johnson. Now he was with is dad on their way to a soccer game.9

“What’s the matter Michael?” his dad asked. “Are you feeling alright? You look a little confused.”10

“I don’t know, dad.” He heard himself reply, almost automatically. “I can’t seem to remember the ride here, or what we’re doing.”11

“Oh, come now, Michael. That’s nonsense. It must just be pre-game jitters,” his dad explained before tossing him a silver jersey. “Now put on that jersey, and let’s go. Your team is waiting for you.”12

Michael slipped on his jersey as he jogged down the hill alongside his dad. He tried to clear his head, to focus on what was in front of him now. When they reached the side of the soccer field, he looked around for his mom, whom he figured would be amongst the rest of the silver-team parents. Strangely, though, she wasn’t.13

“Dad,” Michael started. “Where’s mom? I don’t see here down here with the rest of the moms and dads.” He looked up at his dad, awaiting his response, but the look in his dad’s face told him more than he needed to know.14

“Don’t you remember, Michael?” his dad responded nervously. “This is our weekend together. You get to go back and see your mom on Sunday, after church.”15

“Oh, right,” he lied. “I remember now. Sorry about that. Like you said, must be the pre-game jitters.” His dad chuckled hesitantly.16

“There you are, Michael,” said a thundering voice from behind him. “I thought we were going to have to start the game without you. Don’t know what we would’ve done without our star center.”17

“Sorry, Coach,” came another automatic reply. “We were running a bit late. That’s all.”18

“Well, that’s good,” exclaimed the coach, in a slightly annoyed tone of voice. “Now come on, the game is about to start.”19

Michael jogged to meet up with his team on the playing field. He recognized most of the boys. They had gone to school together, though they looked a few years older than he remembered. One boy in particular jogged up to meet him halfway.20

“Glad you could make it Michael,” the boy said. “You had us worried for a moment that you weren’t going to make it.”21

Before Michael could say anything back, another boy on the field shouted over. “Anthony, Michael. Come on. They’re going to drop the ball any second!”22

Both Anthony and Michael nodded. “Come on Michael. Let’s show these guys what we’re made of,” and with that, Anthony broke into a sprint to get back into position. Michael took up his place in the center, ready to lead his team to a win.23

“Today’s game is between the Red Jaguars and the Silver Snakes.” The announcer’s voice boomed over the small PA system surrounding the field. “The referee has just tossed the ball into play, so here we go!”24

Michael lunged for the ball, using the distraction of the announcer to get first swipe at it ahead of the red team. Dodging the red center to the left, he passed the ball over to Anthony. A few short passes later and Michael scored the first goal, whizzing the ball past the red team goalie’s head. The silver team broke into a loud cheer as they setup to defend their goal.25

It didn’t seem like much time had passed, but the referee sounded his air-horn signaling that the first half was done. In that 45-minute period, the Silver Snakes had taken a major lead, beating the Red Jaguars 12 to 5. The teams separated off to go meet with their coaches before the start of the second half. Michael was surrounded by his team, being showered with complements as they approached their coach.26

“Yes, yes, well done Michael and team,” started Coach. “We’ve really got them in a corner now. We do need to be careful, though. I’ve seen how they play in the second half when they’re behind. They can get pretty fierce. Let’s make sure we keep up a good defense as we’re already doing well with our lead. Now, get something to drink and get back on the field!”27

Everyone went from circling the coach and over to the cooler where the drinks were being kept. One of the team moms bent over to open up the cooler, but it was on her way up that Michael noticed something really odd.28

“Mom…” he heard himself stammer. “Is it really you?”29

Out of nowhere, Michael felt a strong whack on the back of his head.30

“You weirdo,” exclaimed Anthony. “That’s my mom. What’s gotten into you today?”31

Michael shook his head and blinked his eyes a bit. It was indeed Anthony’s mom. He looked up at her with a confused expression on his face.32

“Anthony,” the woman replied quickly. “It’s not nice to hit your friends. You know that all your friends treat me like the team mom. I’m sure that’s what Michael meant. Right, Michael?”33

“Right,” he replied quickly, trying not to look any more foolish than he already was. 34

Anthony shook his head in disbelief, grabbed his juice box, and went to sit with the rest of the team. Michael quickly grabbed his and followed, not wanting to be anywhere near Anthony’s mom now.35

After the short break, the teams took to the field again. The referee came down, tossed in the ball, and the second half of the game was underway. This time, the yellow center took lead on the ball, Michael still distracted by the cooler incident. It didn’t take long for that distraction to let the red team get their first goal in.36

The game went downhill from there. The red team quickly closed the gap in the score. With only 5 minutes left in the game, the red team had finally evened up the score with a brilliant shot from near the penalty line. The score was now tied at 16 each.37

The next ball came almost directly to Michael, who started to dribble it up the field. Adrenaline and focus poured through him as he dodged left and spun right to avoid the red team. He quickly closed the distance until it was just him and the goalie left. Michael turned sharply, lining up the perfect shot into the goalies net. He pulled his leg back to start the kick, but, as his foot came down to meet the ball he caught a glimpse of something out in the audience. It was his mother again. This time, though, she was standing over on the red side.38

His foot missed the ball entirely, causing Michael to do a half backflip before hitting his head square on the ground. The world grew dark around him as he heard the announcer shout over the PA that someone on the silver team had been injured. The last picture in his mind before he blacked out was that of his mother, standing on side with the enemy.39

---40

Slowly, Michael’s head had stopped its throbbing. His vision was still black, but his sense of hearing was slowly coming back. He definitely heard something, but he couldn’t quite make it out. His head was still too fuzzy from the fall. As his head cleared a little more and his eyes opened, he was finally able to make out what it was he was hearing. 41

“Mommy; It’s gonna hurt Mommy,” he heard himself whimper. “I don’t like the doctor, mommy.” He now saw clearly. In front of him was a doctor who had just put on the white latex gloves. “Can we go home? Please? I wanna go home!” 42

The room’s walls were painted with pictures of a circus, the merry-go-round on one wall, a clown with balloons on the next. He closed his eyes hoping that this was all a bad dream. He waited for what seemed to be a few minutes before opening them again, hoping the doctor had vanished. Much to his dismay, however, the doctor had not vanished, but instead approached with a needle and syringe in hand.43

“It will all be ok, Michael,” came the soothing reply from his mother. All he could focus on, however, was the needle approaching his skin. Squinting his eyes once again, he tightly bit his lip. Just through the cracks of his eyelids, he could see the merry-go-round. He focused on the merry-go-round; the ponies, zebras, and lions, his head filling with carnival music, laughter, and cheer. He immersed himself in it, longing to go there, longing to be free.44

“Watch me, Dad!” he heard himself shout as the darkness of his senses opened to lights and sounds whirling around him. The smells of fresh fried onion rings and the swirl of cinnamon and sugar from the elephant ears flooded his nose as the baby blues from the morning sky, royal reds from the big tops, and bright pinks of the stuffed elephants on the toy stands spiraled left and right. Michael was getting dizzy from staring outside of what appeared to be a spinning teacup, he focused his attention back inside.45

“You’re doing great, son!” he heard his father shout above the roar of the carnival from outside the ride. He closed his eyes and soaked in his surroundings. The smells, the sounds, and the heat of the beating sun pervaded his senses. Oh, how he wanted something sweet, something that would make his day even better, something that he wanted to melt in his mouth. Oh, how he wanted cotton candy. Moments later, the ride stopped.46

Standing up proved to be more difficult that he had originally expected. It seemed as if he just couldn’t put any weight on his legs, as if they had become marshmallows. Bracing himself on the walls of the teacup, he worked his way off the ride and down next to his father. His eyes stopped spinning, only to land on what he desired most. His father’s left hand was extended out to help him off the ride, and in his right hand, there was a cone of cotton candy.47

“Thanks Dad, you’re the best!” he exclaimed before shoving his face into the swirl of cottony goodness. Oh, the joys of swallowing that sweet cotton, tasting the small granules of sugar melt away in his mouth. His eyes closed, savoring every last moment of that paradise.48

He could feel the doctor’s hand on his arm, muscles tightening in self-defense. He was still lost in the sense of that cotton candy. Shock sunk in as he remembered what was to come. He braced himself for the pain, that prick of reality that brought him from that sweet memory of time with his father.49

Thirty seconds later, after not having felt the expectant pain, he slowly opened his eyes. He expected to see the clowns and merry-go-rounds of the doctor’s office. Instead, he saw darkness and he was now lying on the ground. In the darkness, he couldn’t make out what the ground was made of, but it was cold, like the frigid morning just after a New York blizzard, yet the ground was completely dry. He ran his fingers over the flooring, feeling its ridges as he went. It was interesting. The ground- it felt like a stained glass window.50

It was when he stood up, that the shock hit him. He couldn’t remember how he got where he was. He couldn’t remember anything; nothing. That is, except for the doctor’s office and the carnival, the memories of which were still fresh in his mind. “Where am I?” he stammered to himself in an unsettlingly deeper voice than that of his memories. “Where am I?”